The Turn - The Coroner
by KiltedPineapple
Summary: The Turn is a series I write off and on. They are short little one shots the do not include any characters from the TV Show or comics but do take place in that world. Each story captures events from people around the world as the walkerpocalypse started.
1. The Turn - The Coroner

Willard Penn looked up at the clock, rubbing his eyes. 3:00 A.M., the halfway point through the dreaded graveyard shift. He snickered; 'graveyard shift' seemed a befitting term he always felt in the 8 years he had worked for the New York City Coroner's Office. Glancing over at the slab he sighed knowing he needed to perform the autopsy on the man lying on the table. Better get to it, he motivated himself.

Willard sighed again as he lifted his 280 pound body off the small desk chair. He lumbered over to the slab and slid his glasses on, grabbing the clipboard from the end of the table to read about this newest victim to the horrors that took place in the city nightly. "Reed Johnson," Willard read out loud. "Reed? Who names their kid 'Reed'?" He laughed. He pulled his glasses down his nose and looked at Mr. Johnson again. "It appears someone thinks you may have been poisoned. Interesting life, there, Reed." saying the name of the victim like an imitation of a British butler. "Looks like I get to remove your liver than, Mr. Johnson. Joy."

Willard never really imagined being a coroner. It's not that he wasn't good at his job. But New York City offered a never ending collection of victims. After 8 years, he felt jaded. There was a toll for working long hours with dead bodies. There was the drinking he never saw as a problem, just a release. But Jennifer sure felt different. His wife used the drinking as an excuse to take their daughter, Sally, back to Ohio a year ago – but he knew it was the job. Who wants to be married to a man who handles dead bodies all day and always came home reeking of formaldehyde?

Setting the clipboard down, Willard walked back over to his desk and pulled a small, dented flask out. He shook the container to see how much was left and then took a long swig. _I'll show her drinking_ he would think to himself whenever he'd drink at work.

Slowly and methodically as always he started cutting in to the late Mr. Reed Johnson. Doing autopsies was still like being in med school. It was like an advanced anatomy class and for all his faults; Willard knew he was good at this. More recently he found himself drinking more when he worked graveyard. He told himself it was the fact that Sally's birthday was coming up. He sincerely missed his daughter.

After getting Mr. Johnson open, he removed the liver and placed it on the scale and recorded the needed information for his report. He removed his gloves and walked back over to his desk. Why was he so tired tonight? He reached over and turned a small radio on. Perhaps music would help wake him up, he thought to himself. And maybe a little more go-go juice would help too, grabbing the flask again and taking another swig.

He stretched and sighed, his routine for the night he figured. Willard let his thoughts wander to his beautiful Sally. She was the one good thing that came out of his miserable marriage to Jennifer. Maybe he should surprise her for her birthday? He took a seat at his desk and started looking for the paper he needed for requesting a toxicology report.

It may have been distraction or the booze or even his thoughts drifting off about Sally, but he neither saw nor heard the rhythmic wheeze of breath come back in to Mr. Johnson.

Mr. Johnson's eyes opened, looking grey and lifeless. His body moved by some force of unknown nature sat up spilling out the remaining insides that Willard had not tinkered with.

Willard heard a sound that was like a wad of wet paper towels hitting the floor. He glanced over his shoulder to see Mr. Johnson now standing and walking toward him. Part of Willard wanted to scream, but the first thought he had was that he had cut open and removed the liver of someone who was alive.

"Mr. Johnson?" Willard spoke in a trembling voice.

The smell of fresh meat must have been overwhelming to the late Reed Johnson as he lurched forward to Willard and bit a chunk of flesh off the fatty part of his neck. Willard realized he should scream now, but the bite sunk into his juggler. Blood was everywhere from the two men causing Willard to slip and fall backwards, banging his head on the corner of the old grey metal desk that must have been there since the 1930's.

Mr. Johnson, moaning and wheezing, bent down for another bite – the fear in Willard causing his heart to race and the blood to pump that much faster. The light in one's eyes that is the result of life flickered out of Willard's, like a candle was being blown out. The creature that was formerly Reed Johnson continued to eat with a ravenous passion. Willard's lifeless body lay on the floor still griping a now blood soaked form requesting the toxicology test.


	2. The Turn - The Happy Leprechaun

_The Mayor suggests staying away from major metropolitan areas, if at all possible unless you are traveling with the National Guard. Units have established multiple pick up stations in an around the greater Chicago area. Please find one of those locations. Do not travel into the city alone… _the woman on the television continued to drone on. Dom kept glancing between his cell phone and the TV. The small apartment he was in was tidy, but he was anxious to hear from his sister. Bailey Mitchell was such a flake, but he loved his baby sister and wanted to get her out of the city. The last text he got from her said her boyfriend Paul had been killed by these eaters. He sent her a text asking if she would meet him at that little dive she loved to go to but had not heard anything from her. He wanted to not worry since the cell signal kept going in and out, but he could not help but think she had done something stupid.

Finally, a text came through. 'I will meet you at the Happy Leprechaun at 3'. Dom shivered. He was so tense. The past few days had been crazy. Whatever had happened, whatever changed people in to these dead, ravenous creatures had happened so quickly no one knew what to do. All he knew was if you saw these things they would try and kill you. His plan was to leave the city immediately after getting Bailey. There had to be a way out that didn't include getting rounded up by the National Guard and taken to one of their 'Safety Bases'. That would make him feel like too much like a sitting duck.

Dom and Bailey used to be close. They were almost 10 years apart in age. Their parents died right after Dom left for college and he felt responsible for her after that. He fought for custody with his aunt and surprisingly won. After that he was not real sure what to do. He did his best to provide for his sister, but being a 20 something and trying to take care of a young girl proved to have more challenges than he could have ever foreseen. When Bailey reached high school, she became unruly. That is where the partying started - and the desire to be with men that treated her like crap. This latest guy, Paul, was no better than any other guy Bailey had ever dated. Drugs, booze, other women. Bailey always had an excuse for him and always went back.

He packed up a bag with some clothes, a little bit of food and a few water bottles. He looked around his apartment trying to think of what else he should take, considering he didn't know when he would be back - if ever. He grabbed a photo album and his first aid kit. Looking at his watch he saw he only had a half hour to walk the 20 some odd blocks to the pub. He left his apartment, locking the door behind him and set out. As he walked out on to the street, it was eerie seeing Chicago so empty. He could hear cars in the distance, but the city services had stopped operating all ready. The streets were littered with trash. There were cars abandoned in places. As he walked in the direction he was heading, he saw a few city police cruising by and tucked into an alley. If they saw him, they would pick him up. He glanced out and saw the car was gone. Hopefully they didn't see him. He decided to pick up the pace. A slow jog and keeping an eye out for cops, National Guard and infected people. He saw a few living people, but everyone was focused on their own escape out of the city.

Finally he arrived at the bar. He looked up at a shabby sign that was in need of a repaint, 'The Happy Leprechaun'. What a dive. He glanced through the window and could see Bailey sitting at a table, drink in hand. Great, he thought. He walked in and she didn't even bat an eyelash that someone had come in. The place was empty aside from his sister.

"Bailey, you are here alone?" he sat at her table. There was a bottle of rum on the table.

Bailey looked up at her brother. He could tell she had been crying her mascara was smeared all around her eyes. "No, I'm with him." She pointed to a man lying dead on the floor about five feet away from them.

"Oh shit!" Dom walked over and kicked the body. He could see the man was the former bartender and he had been attacked by one of those infected people. He looked around and saw the body of another person. Both gone. "Why are you in here with these bodies, Bailey? Drinking no less." He picked up the bottle to see what she was drinking. "You need to stop this. We have to get out of the city. I need you to be able to focus!"

"Focus on what, Dominic? We are just going to end up like that guy. Like Paul." she started to weep again.

Dom sat back down with her, looking around the bar to make sure they were safe. He could see all kinds of weird things on the walls, aside from pictures depicting various places in Ireland there were weird taxidermy animals on the walls. A jackalope and an odd looking mock unicorn - a white horses head with what looked like an antelope horn coming out of its head to make it look like one of the mythical creatures. He cringed.

"Look, hon, I know you are upset about Paul, but do you want to end up like him? I need to get you out of here. The news is saying the National Guard is rounding people up, but I don't trust they can contain this mess and keep up safe. I would rather just get to a rural area on the outskirts of the city until this thing blows over."

"What makes you think this is going to blow over?" She took another drink. "People are dying all over the place. These things attack you and eat you. They eat you, Dom!" she said raising her voice.

He knew the stories and had seen some rather graphic news footage before the news channels started shutting down. Some were still running, but other stations had gone off the air and were running an Emergency Broadcast signal. He had seen very little first hand and nothing up close and personal. "Bailey, I know you are upset about Paul. But don't you think he would want you to survive this?"

She gave him a dirty look. "We won't survive this. It's the end of the world and we're all gunna die." She gave a weak laugh. They sat there for a little bit. Dom was trying to give her a chance to see he was not going to leave the bar without her and that she had no choice but to leave with him. He stood up and started pacing. There had to be a way to convince her she needed to come with him and if he ended up having to drag her out of the place, he would.

He turned to face her. "Bailey, you are going to stand up, get your bag and leave here with me. I am not going to leave you here to die and I would think you love me enough to at least let me try and get you to safety." She stared at him for a moment contemplating her situation, pounding the rest of her drink. She stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulders and looked at her brother giving him a look that said she would go with him but was not happy about it. Suddenly her expression changed. Her face contorted to a look of horror and she thought she was going to break down crying again. Before he could say anything, he heard a wheeze behind him.

Dominic was a pretty athletic guy and his heart started racing like he had just run a marathon. The former bartender was standing and was shambling toward him. The desire for fresh meat was strong and the pace of the dead man was much faster than either would have expected. The bartender reached out and grabbed Dom by the shoulders trying to bite him. Dominic stepped backwards trying to break free of the things grip, but it was tight. The monster slammed him up against the wall, knocking the horses head on to the floor. When the head hit, the antelope horn rolled across the floor. Dominic was struggling and yelling for Bailey to help, but she had witnessed Paul die this was so she ran to hide behind the bar. She rounded the corner and tripped over the other body. Dominic was still struggling for his own life, but not seeing what happened to Bailey he started to scream for her. He could hear her screaming in fear, yelling no. In a quick instant he grabbed the horn and buried it in the head of the bartender.

Dom sat there for a moment in shock before he realized Bailey was still screaming. He pulled the horn out of the bartenders head and ran over to where his sister was screaming. The other dead guy was moving toward his sister, belly crawling toward her like a soldier. He could see blood but wasn't sure if it was Bailey's. Dom straddled the dead patron and stabbed him repetitively in the head. Bailey kept screaming, freaked out about everything that had just gone down.

Looking at his sister, "Bales, are you okay?" She stopped screaming but was still freaking out. "Bales! Are you okay?" He said a little more sternly. Bailey tried to collect herself, but she was staring at the blood drenched horn clenched in her brother's hand.

"He bit me! That thing, he bit me!" She stammered. Dom ran to her side to check out the bite. Sure enough on her left ankle he could see where the thing got her. He scrambled to get her to her feet and back to the table. She was crying again, but this time it was because of the pain shooting up her leg. Dom helped his sister over to the table and frantically dug the first aid kit out of his backpack. He looked through it and found a small bottle of iodine, alcohol wipes and Band-Aids. Surely not anything he could really use to prevent the bite from getting infected, but it was better than nothing. He ran behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of water and ran back to Bailey, who had stopped screaming. She winced in pain when he lifted her leg and poured water on the wound and did his best to clean the area.

After getting her as clean as he could and bandaged up he put the supplies back in his backpack and threw his bag over his shoulder. "Bales, we need to leave here. Now." She sniffled and nodded, grabbing her bag. They looked out the front and could see military vehicles driving up the block on the next street over. "Damn, we should go out the back." he contemplated.

"Why aren't we going to one of the Safety Bases?" Bailey asked him. "It's the military, they can keep us safe."

"No, Bales. I don't think they can. Look how fast this thing, whatever it is spread. They have not contained anything; they've just abandoned cities all over the country and rounded up as many survivors as possible. I don't want to go to one of those places and end up being like one of those guys. We're lucky they didn't bite you anywhere that would have killed you." he gestured to her ankle. "Come on; let's check out the back alley."

Dom and Bailey left out the back door. The smell of the alley was a disgusting mix of beer, rotten food and motor oil. "How are we going to get out of the city then if we are trying to avoid the National Guard?" Bailey asked her brother, warming up to him considering he had just saved her life.

"We go on foot if we have to, but with that ankle, I think we should try and find a vehicle." They were walking down the alley toward the street they had just seen the trucks on. Looking west, they could see the convoy rounding the corner a few blocks away.

"We don't have a vehicle, Dom. We going to a used car lot?" she snickered, trying to make herself feel better.

"I have seen a lot of abandoned vehicles; we'll just take one of those." They headed east, away from the convoy.

"We're stealing cars now?"

"Look around you, Bailey. I think the rule of law is gone. If they want to arrest me, fine. But I need to get you to safety." They looked around and found a beat up Oldsmobile 88. The doors were opened and no one was around. "Wait here." He left his sister by the front of the car. Thankfully the keys were still in the ignition. He started the car up and to his further happiness, the engine turned over. He waved at Bailey to get in to the passenger side. "I think we are good."

As they were attempting to get out of the city, they had to drive slowly and did their best to avoid people, eaters and the military and police force. It was taking forever. Dom looked over at his sister and could see she had broken out in to a sweat. Her eyes were watering, but she kept looking around. Another half hour had passed and they had not gotten any further out. They had to keep back-tracking and stopping to avoid detection. Finally Bailey had enough. "Pull over, Dom. I think I'm going to be sick." she heaved. Dom stopped the car just in time for Bailey to pop the door open and relieve her body of all the rum she had back at The Happy Leprechaun. Dom looked in the back seat and saw some fast food bags. One had napkins in it, so he handed them to Bailey to wipe her mouth off. As she took the napkins from him, Dom could feel the heat radiating off his sister's hand.

"Bailey, you have a fever. You feel okay?"

She shot him a dirty look considering what just happened. "What do you think?"

He reached up and placed the back of his hand on her cheek. Definitely a fever. "Shit. We need to get you someplace where you can rest. We'll hold up for the night and try again tomorrow to get out of the city." They were too far away from his apartment to make it back before dark. He wanted to get off the streets because if he had to use the car lights, they would be spotted for sure. He pulled into a little seedy motel and helped his sister out of the car. He could see she was sweating and shivering. She kept clenching her eyes and shaking her head, but every time he asked her how she was hold up she either said she was fine or would just ignore him and shake a shiver up her spine.

There was no one in the lobby of the place so he walked behind the counter and grabbed a key to one of the rooms on the second floor. Slowly he escorted her up the stairs; they could not see or hear anyone, which was a good thing. When they got into the room, he was disgusted at how gross it was. Bailey seemed to not be fazed and he couldn't tell if it was because of her past or her current state. She flopped down on the bed and a musty smell wafted up that only Dom seemed to notice. He walked over to the small window and looked down on the street. The sun was almost down and so far, it appeared no one had seen them enter the place. He drew the blinds closed and could see they were not in the best condition, so he grabbed a blanket and covered the window to keep the light from attracting people or things.

He didn't have anything in his bag for a fever, so he told Bailey to sit tight while he looked down in the mangers office for a first aid kit. He moved slowly, more frightened of encountering those things now that it was dark out. There was no one in the office so he helped himself to dig around for anything useful. He found a couple bags of chips and a bottle of aspirin tucked in to the draw right next to a bottle of E&J brandy. As he grabbed the aspirin, he heard something in the lobby. Startled, he pressed his back against the wall and glanced out the door. The lighting was bad, but a small sliver was spilling in from the street light that was still lit up outside. He looked frantically around the office to find something to use as a weapon and spotted a metal baseball bat tucked in the corner. Chicago. Gotta love the old fashioned thuggery of the place. Bat in hand; he slowly crept out of the office, trying to get his eyes to focus. As he came around the desk, a stray cat darted out in front of him and out the door. Dom stood there frozen for a moment and then laughed at being afraid of an alley cat. He realized it could have easily been one of those things, so he darted back upstairs to the room to give his sister the aspirin he had found.

Bailey was under the thin covers on the bed curled in a ball, shaking. He ran to her side digging water out of his backpack as he sat down next to her. Her fever was bad and suddenly he realized this was a result of that bite. Is this real? He thought to himself. How could she be so sick, so fast from a bite? The news had talked about the dead rising and the dead attacking, but nothing about those bites being infectious. Maybe they had said something and he missed it in his distraction. He propped Bailey up and forced her to take some aspirin, hoping the fever would break and she would be okay. Throughout the night, she lay there sweating and coughing. She would snap awake with a scream of no, and then fall back into her feverish slumber. Her breathing became labored and he realized in the early morning hours there was nothing he was going to be able to do for her. After much contemplating, Dom decided he needed to get her to a Safety Base where she could get the medical attention she needed.

He looked outside and saw a convoy heading their way, so he quickly scooped up his baby sister, who was now too weak to walk. He headed downstairs and propped her up waiving at the military convoy. The convoy stopped and a man in uniform jumped out of the truck, raising his side arm.

"Stop right there!" he yelled.

"Please, you need to help my sister. She has been bitten by one of those eaters and is real sick now. Please." Dom was overwhelmed. After staying up all night and worrying about Bailey, he felt broken. He only wanted to help her and now he felt like he had reached the end of his strength.

"She was bitten?" the National Guardsman asked Dom.

"Yes. Yesterday on her ankle. You can help her. Please, please help us." Dom was shaking, hands still in the air.

The National Guardsman looked back at the convoy and a man who appeared to be of higher rank. The man in the truck nodded and the younger man turned back, raised his weapon and fired a round into Bailey's head. Before Dom could react to anything he turned and watched his sister's lifeless body slump to the ground.

"No!" Dom repeatedly yelled as he ran to Bailey's side. He wrapped her up in his arms, burying his face in her neck crying.

"You need to come with us, sir." The man said.

"You killed her! You killed my sister, you bastard!" He stood and ran at the military man, but the guy raised his gun again.

"Sir, calm down. If she was bitten she was already dead. I did her a favor."

"A favor? You didn't even try to help her! Don't you have medicine? Doctors? Have you lost your mind?" Dom was crying, but his hands were back in the air as he stood there at gun point.

"There is nothing we can do for a person once they are bit. The fever takes control and they die. She was dying. And she would have come back as one of those things. Did you want that to happen to her?"

"You don't know that! I gave her medicine for her fever! She could have beaten this!"

The man slowly approached Dom and took him by the arm, leading him to the back of the truck. They helped him inside and the convoy started moving again. Dom sat catatonic in the back of the truck, staring down at the floor. His will was gone. The convoy continued to drive off through the city and out of site of the hotel, leaving Bailey Mitchell's body behind.


End file.
